Chapter 217
Nima
I don't know why I did that.
I don't know why I kissed Daphne.
So when the heat of it burned through me and I was too embarrassed to face her, I shifted into my animal form.
Now I'm trapped.
She's holding me against her cheek, and I struggle, kicking my small paws, but she doesn't let go. My fur brushes her skin, and the warmth of her breath tickles my ear.
Her hand strokes my back gently, like I'm some fragile thing she needs to soothe, when all I want is to vanish into the floor.
I push, squirm, anything to get free. But her arms only tighten.
"Stop wriggling," she murmurs, voice low and soft, the kind of voice that makes my chest ache.
I don't stop. I can't.
Because if I stop moving, if I stop kicking or wriggling or trying to squirm free, then I'll remember. I'll remember the kiss. The heat of her mouth. The way I leaned forward first.
